


Ride

by unholyseraphs (oncharredwings)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, Eating Disorders, M/M, Mystery, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncharredwings/pseuds/unholyseraphs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is on the road searching for modeling jobs, even though he is just not quite good enough, he perseveres - with the hangup of trying to mold himself to being thinner. He is also a Third Gender Omega- meaning he has the ability to reproduce but he also carries the stigma his kind carries more so than other Omegas. Along the way, Castiel meets the mysterious good looking guy with the beast of a car who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. After a run-in  with a stranger, their lives change, but Castiel isn't quite sure if they're for the better or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an A/B/O universe in which there are no women. 
> 
> There are Alphas who have the abilities to Knot and breed.  
> There are Betas who cannot breed.  
> There are Omegas who cannot bear children.  
> And there are "Third Gender" Omegas who have the genitalia and reproductive systems of a female (minus the breasts). 
> 
> This is written by no means to offend anyone who is trans. This is also not trans!Cas, just letting you know now :)

Sweat.

 

There was so much of it. It bled through the back of his t-shirt and made it stick to his skin like a second layer made of mucous. It ran down from his hairline and into his eyes, making them sting and flinch. It was making his thighs stick together and he could feel his underwear rubbing against his pelvis uncomfortably. Needless to say, he needed to get out of the sun but the bus hadn’t arrived yet. He still had - Castiel checked his phone which was barely holding on battery wise - fifteen more minutes.

 

The grumbling of his stomach made him sigh.

 

He had made a promise to himself to actually eat something today but eating in this weather would be idiotic - he would get sick and vomit it all up within a few minutes of getting it down. Plus, if he ate that would just be more pounds on his body. He was already fat enough, eating more junk when not necessary was stupid.

 

Ten more minutes.

 

Castiel groaned, slouching down against the bus stop seat in annoyance. He wanted to make it to his next stop by sundown so he wasn’t just wandering a city he didn’t know in the dark. Not that it mattered much, since most men would stop and give him directions. Only some of them wanted a favor in return. Most Alphas were nice to him, since he was small, cute, and he showed off a lot of skin most of the times. Today especially - denim shorts that barely went down his thigh, and an overly tight black t-shirt that kept riding up in the front, showing off his flat stomach now and again, as well as the ring in his navel.

 

Having shaved recently helped too, since his legs were now as smooth as a baby’s ass. They went on for days; he had been offered a modeling job earlier in the year but he had weighed too much for the part. Ever since then he’d been attempting to lose weight so he could find another job. Any job that paid good money he’d take, even if he had to do more than just shake hands to get it. He was not below giving out sexual favors for cash and job positions.

 

Across the street was a diner called The Blue Moon. A rumbling, black, beast of a car was pulling into the diner’s parking lot and the man that climbed out made Castiel sit up straighter, watching with curious eyes. From his spot on the bench, he could see that the man was tall, his shoulders broad, and the way he moved, he probably had impressive body strength, his skin sunkissed, and his hair slicked back and not quite brown but not quite blonde either. He had a firm jawline that made Castiel feel weak in the knees - or he _would_ have felt weak in the knees if he had been standing up (or maybe that was the lack of food).

 

Castiel could see quite easily that the man was extremely handsome. He even stood up, intending to walk over and introduce himself, screw the bus, but the bus was coming down the street just as he was about to make the decision to cross.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, rolling his eyes to himself as he realized he had acted too late. Technically, he could walk over there still, but the bus was here, pulling up in front of him, and he had his last bit of cash to get him to Atlanta. Putting his money into the fare, Castiel walked back to an empty seat and sunk down, facing the window so he could stare out as they drove away from the mysteriously attractive man at The Blue Moon.

 

 

There was a convenient store up the road that was open late, its OPEN sign flashing and flickering weakly like a dying animal. They ought to have some water that was colder than the tepid stuff he had left over from the last city he was in. The man behind the counter lifted his head as he walked in but Castiel ignored him in favor of rushing back to the racks of refrigerators that held the precious drinks.

 

Cold.

 

Castiel groaned as he placed the bottle right against his cheek, almost collapsing from relief. He had been dropped off in Atlanta hours ago, but after searching for a job, and once again, being told he wasn’t good enough - this time due to his height, he wasn’t quite tall enough - he had wandered away from the city and off into the country again. People living in the middle of nowhere tended to be nicer than city dwellers. That was how he had ended up in a small town called Valley Grande.

 

“You okay?”

 

Castiel startled, quickly spinning around to face the man from the front; he had wandered back to where Castiel still stood with the cooler open. “Yeah,” he replied warily. “Just hot.”

 

“Is pretty hot outside, ain’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” he admitted slowly, feeling concern fill his stomach. Mistrust was something that came over him easily for multiple reasons, but this man screamed CREEP in loud letters. “Not used to the weather here.”

 

“Where you from?”

 

“Maine.”

 

“Wow, far away from home, ain’tcha?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“Where you headed?”

 

“Nowhere.”

 

The man laughed and slapped his knee. “You found it.”

 

Castiel did not laugh or comment, he just stepped around the clerk and made his way back to the front to wait, setting his last bit of cash on the counter. There was a box of chocolate bars sitting on the counter next to the register advertising two for 1.99 but Castiel did not have enough money to get the water _and_ candy. He probably could pit pocket one but not with the guy coming back to watch him and ring him up.

 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?”

 

Castiel glanced at the man’s name tag. Gordon. Yeah, he _looked_ like a Gordon. What a black man was doing in the deep South where he had seen not one but three Confederate flags flying, Castiel had no idea. “I’m fine,” he replied with a shrug. “Just hungry.”

 

Gordon rang up his water. “You want one?”

 

Castiel glanced to the candy bars again and nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t have enough money.”

 

Gordon smirked. Castiel could feel his skin crawling, practically trying to slough off his body. “You don’t need money if you do me a favor, pretty boy.”

 

Castiel gulped; again, he was not below giving up sex for money, food, or shelter but it wasn’t something he _wanted_ to do necessarily. “What kind of favor?”

 

Gordon patted the counter. “Sit up here and lemme see what you got.”

 

A blush bloomed across his cheeks and suddenly he grew self conscious; most men just wanted him to get on his knees, but oh no, not this man. Gordon wanted to _see_. _He probably knows, dumbass_. “That’s… that’s okay. I’ll just take my water and go-” He reached for the water, feeling its cool sweat against his warm palm, it was jolting, and it was just enough to make him leap for the door, but when he pushed against it, the door didn’t budge.

 

Gordon had locked him in.

 

He spun around to face Gordon who was walking from around the counter, slowly unbuckling his belt. “All you had to do was get up on the counter and let me see.”

 

“No,” he whispered. “Let me go, please-.”

 

“Not until I see, pretty boy.”

 

Castiel stared at Gordon, waiting for the man to lunge at him, but for the moment, Gordon remained on his side, his belt hanging open but he had taken no further action, so Castiel swallowed a lump the size of a goose egg down his throat and slowly set his water bottle down on the floor. With trembling fingers, Castiel unsnapped his shorts and slowly pulled them down, just enough for Gordon to see the pastel pink, lace panties… and the missing body part.

 

“You’re third?” Gordon asked with a slow smile. “I had a feelin’ you was but I wasn’t sure.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied as his shoulders slumped. “I’m a third gender Omega.”

 

“You want outta here I suggest you get up on the counter and put on a show.”

 

Castiel glanced at the counter and then at Gordon. “I want more than a candy bar then. You saw, but if you want a show, I want money.”

 

Gordon laughed. “Money, he says? Fine, you can get fifty bucks.”

 

“One hundred.”

 

“No way, Kid. You ain’t worth one hundred bucks. Fifty and I don’t bruise you up too bad for giving me a hard time.” Gordon gestured grandiosely at the counter. “Go on.”

 

Fifty dollars wouldn’t go far unless he _really_ stretched his dollar but it was better than nothing. Slowly, he slunk over to the counter and eased himself up onto it, pushing his shorts and panties down to reveal that he hadn’t been able to shave or wax in a few weeks. “Sorry,” he whispered, reaching to rub his clit with his thumb. “Haven’t had the supplies to… take care of it.”

 

Gordon shrugged and leaned back against a rack of candy and cookies. “Hey, it’s better than I’ve seen down through here, believe you me.”

 

Castiel tried to ignore Gordon licking his lips and staring as if he wanted to be inside him, trying to focus on anything else. Anything that would turn him on long enough to get off and leave with the money in tact. The thought of the handsome man at the diner, his rugged face between his legs, the stubble burning his thighs…

 

Castiel moaned, pumping his fingers in and out as fast as he could, trying to get it all over with. It didn’t take long; he was soon a moaning, wet mess on the counter, leaving a sticky trail of slick to be remembered by. When he opened his eyes, the image of the handsome stranger fading away, Castiel tried not to pull a look of disgust; Gordon was rubbing himself crudely through his jeans, and Cas wanted _no_ part in that display.

 

“Happy?” he panted. “I want the money and the candy.”

 

“Sure,” Gordon replied with a slithering smile, stepping around to pull out a fifty from the drawer and handing him two candy bars. “Cute pussy.”

 

Castiel snatched up the cash, the candy, and his water, having only to wait until Gordon walked around to let him out. He flinched when his ass was grabbed but soon he was back outside and never once before had he felt so happy to be in one hundred degree weather. The water had to be drunk sparingly but after his display, he knew that he needed to be rehydrated, so Castiel was quick to guzzle down half the bottle before slowing down. Alphas in this town were _disgusting_.

 

Stupid asshole wanting him to masturbate for him just to have a good wank session later. Castiel shuddered, feeling his stomach twist; it was probably the combination of feeling bloated from the water and sick from the rape. If anyone would even consider it rape; he had gotten paid after all. Technically, he had just prostituted himself, even though he had been locked in a gas station, having no choice but to do it. Maybe he should go to the police…

 

Castiel shook his head then.

 

The police hardly ever helped people like him. Omegas that came in the third gender variety flavor were not treated well, at least not in Castiel’s experience. There were Alphas, who were the most respected, there were betas who were basically invisible, and then there were Omegas… but _then_ there were Omegas like him meant for breeding. Alphas were always in the search for an Omega like him to call their own so they could pass on their seed and offspring. Most Omegas like him were sold to the highest bidder… but _he_ had been given to his oldest brother, Michael. That was when he had run away. There were many things he would do, but marry and have sex with his blood brother was not one of them.

 

But back to the point.

 

The police would not help him, especially not the police in this small town where everyone was probably the same and knew everyone. They would never believe an out of town stranger like him, especially when most people viewed Omegas as sluts. Even if he _was_ a slut, he didn’t need the world _thinking_ he was a slut, and just _assuming_ he was trash. A sigh slid out of his body like a tired and heavy anchor, pulling him towards the street, even though he needed to keep walking.

 

In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure where he was going, just walking. Maybe if he walked long enough he’d find somewhere to stay. Castiel fumbled along the road, taking swigs of water sparingly, even though the heat seemed to evaporate every drink he took out of his throat, and his thirst was never quite quenched. The town lights flickered on and off from shop to shop, nothing was open this late, but he passed antique shops, small no-name restaurants, a bakery, and the public library before coming to an intersection. The traffic light turned green for no one at all and he soon found himself standing in the middle of the intersection, just staring up at the lights, going in small circles.

 

The heat was making him feel drunk. His tired body was making him feel like a sack of lead. The candy left the desire to finish off the water in its bottle, every last, precious, drop consumed down his throat to give him something to swallow that wasn’t spit. He made a few more turns before his eyes grew wide at a set of headlights rushing toward him. Even as his mind screamed at him to move, his legs stayed locked into place, and he simply stared into the lights with wide eyes and parted lips, stunned that anyone was on this godforsaken road at three in the morning. The car horn blasting was what made him jump but he knew he had no chance of making it to the curb, so he took a few steps out of the way, his entire body clenching in fear.

 

The car came to a stop so hard and fast the brakes squealed something akin to a pig dying, the sound made Castiel’s ears bleed. He flinched and slowly opened his eyes. It was the car. The black car from earlier. His heart skipped a beat for too many times and he could only stand there breathing raggedly and out of sync, trying to make his heart return to a normal rhythm. The handsome man was climbing out of the car, looking just as shaken up as Castiel felt, with a tinge of anger.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh?! Jesus, I coulda hit you!” the man screamed, throwing his arms up in rage.

 

Castiel blinked and swallowed dryly, trying in vain to remove the cap from the bottle to take a gulp of water so he could talk. His fingers fumbled and the cap rolled away beneath the car, lost to the shadows and asphalt. Doe blue eyes turned up to green and he watched as the man took a sharp intake of breath, seemingly stunned by who he was looking at.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I should have moved.”

 

“Yeah… you shoulda... “ The man blinked a few times, the stunned expression slowly fading to something more neutral. “What’s your name, huh?”

 

“Castiel,” he replied slowly. “My name is Castiel Novak.”

 

The man took a deep breath and held out a hand. “Dean Winchester.”

 

Castiel took Dean’s hand and held it for far too long but Dean didn’t pull away either. They were now standing too close… much closer than strangers should have been standing together beneath a stoplight in the middle of a small town in Georgia on a hot August night. Dean stared down at him, unblinking, and Castiel returned the stare, also unblinking. It was almost as if they had decided to drink each other’s souls up via gaze. The moment froze, time stood still, and if he could have, Castiel would have plucked the moment out of his timeline and slapped it on a page, so he could keep it forever.

 

Memories would fade one day, he was quite cynical about this fact of life. But, in the moment, he felt _right_ standing under a now green light with Death Winchester, a man he didn’t even know. He wanted to remember this moment forever. Then, Dean breathed and took a step back, breaking the magic. The sounds of the world returned to him and Castiel sighed inwardly. Already, the memory was fumbling from his fingers like sand, rushing too fast for him to bottle and store away for safe keeping.

 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, did you know that?” Dean asked, sounding shocked.

 

“I’ve been told that often,” he replied. “I don’t believe it though.” Which was true; even though he knew he was pretty to look at, he had been told this so many times in his life, he did not believe it. He only believed it enough to try and find a job based on how he looked, but anything past that and he was blind to his own appearance.

 

“Seriously?” Dean snorted and shook his head. “I mean, granted, I ain’t happy I almost hit you with my damn car, but I am glad I ran into you tonight.” Dean shifted back onto the heels of his feet, his hands going into the pockets of his leather jacket; how he was wearing something so heavy in this heat, Castiel had no idea.

 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, drawing the subject off of himself.

 

“Nah.” Dean removed one of his hands, waving it in dismissal. “I’m just a guy from Kansas on a road trip.”

 

Road trip? He perked up immediately. Traveling was essential for his attempts at finding jobs, so if he could latch onto Dean, maybe he could find a free ride and a free bed to crash into at night. “Where are you headed now?”

 

“At the moment? I’m headed out West. Why?”

 

“You need an extra hand?”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow but then he smiled a little. “You wantin’ to tag along, cutie?”

 

“I’ll give you road head.”

 

_That_ made Dean startle. “Wow, you’re real upfront aren’t you?”

 

“I try to be. I don’t see the reason to beat around the bush. You think I’m gorgeous, I think you’re gorgeous, we both have something the other wants. Easy payment is sex.” Castiel shrugged, finally finishing the water off. If Dean didn’t say yes to this he was screwed.

 

Castiel watched as Dean’s eyes traveled over the landscape that was his body for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. Get in.” He even opened the door. Castiel slid into the car, tucking himself in, and relaxing. A smile bloomed across his face.

 

_And they say chivalry is dead_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn.

 

It was arriving through the thin, moldy curtains over the opposite motel building full of vacant rooms. As far as he knew, he and Dean were honestly the only people at the _Sunny Side Up Inn_. It was a shitty motel off of the highway, a break from the road, somewhere between Atlanta and Houston. He really wasn’t even sure what state they were in at the moment, let alone which town or city. Castiel allowed a breath to leave his lungs and he waited, not bothering to breathe again.

 

Dean was snoring softly beside him, looking peaceful, which was a pleasant change to the anger or worn out look he always wore like a ritualistic mask. He continued to not breathe, slowly placing his hand on Dean’s chest, feeling his breaths going in and out, and his heart quietly thumping against his palm. Dean’s skin was so warm, soft, and _alive_. There was darkness edging in on his vision, which was when he decided enough was enough and he gasped, gulping the air in. Watching Dean’s lashes flutter in his sleep as he slowly woke up, his eyes still sleepy, and heavy with the want of dreaming, made Castiel sad that he had woken him.

 

“You okay?” Dean mumbled, his eyes closing again as he rolled away, flopping his arm over the edge of the bed.

 

“Yeah,” he whispered back, rolling and pressing against Dean’s back in desperate need to touch. Dean was not big on cuddling or touching, not if they weren’t having sex. “Sorry to wake you up.”

 

Dean grunted, his breathing soon slowing to signal him drifting off into sleep again. Castiel sighed, slowly sitting up and leaving the bed completely, walking across the rough carpet to the bathroom to turn on the shower. It usually needed to run for thirty minutes before anything even resembling hot water trickled free. He ended up sitting on the toilet seat, staring at the his pale reflection in the mirror.

 

Ever since he had been traveling with Dean, he had been eating more, which needed to stop, since he now had a soft stomach that would not be liked by any modeling agency. His skin looked grossly pale beneath the almost green lighting in the bathroom, but beneath the right lighting, he knew he was a lovely shade of sun kissed. His hair looked dirty, which it probably was, since his scalp itched as if there were a fire beneath the skin, but that couldn’t be helped. Shampoo was expensive, so he most ran his hair under water when they could find a hotel with working water.

 

Showers, he had learned quickly, were the quickest way to get Dean in the mood. As soon as Dean was beneath hot water, he was vulnerable to receiving oral. Plus, he always tasted clean in the shower, which he was usually good about anyway. Dean was not like most Alphas who didn’t give a damn about their hygiene; he took care of himself and made sure he was clean and smelled nice constantly. The only thing they needed to work on was his diet; Castiel swallowed Dean’s cum down often, as if he were willing to drink it from a cup, but it would taste better if the man ate more tangerines.

 

Slowly, Castiel parted his legs, staring at his sex without blinking, feeling unphased. Most of the Alphas he had had the pleasure (or sometimes displeasure) of warming beds with always commented on how pretty his pussy was. That’s how they always worded it too: _pretty pussy_. He sighed, spreading his lips to look at himself, since it was not an area he studied too often. As far as he could see, it was just a vastness of pink flesh; nothing special about it at all.

 

Dean was the only one who had never commented on him, even though he spent plenty of time down there, eating him out in the middle of nowhere, in hotels, in public restrooms, all over the place. But to date, Dean had never said a word on how pretty his pussy was or wasn’t. It was almost unnerving; what if Dean hated how he looked? Not that that mattered, since Dean was still eager enough to mount and fuck him whenever he wanted most of the time. They had been traveling together for only a week and already Castiel knew Dean’s dick like he knew the back of his hand.

 

Not that he was complaining at all.

 

The shower had been going for long enough that it had become white noise. How long had it been anyway? Was Dean still asleep? Castiel glanced back out to bed and saw the lump beneath the duvet that was most definitely Dean, before slowly shutting the door and climbing in under the water. It wasn’t hot but it wasn’t freezing cold either, so that was better than nothing. There was even a small bottle of shampoo on a shelf. At least now he could scrub his scalp until it felt _clean_ ; he would scrub until there was blood beneath his fingernails, which was how his mother had always done it when he had been growing up as a kid.

 

Of course, his mother had done _many_ things until he had bled as a child.

 

“Cas?” came Dean’s sleep heavy voice as he shuffled into the bathroom, the sound of him pissing into the toilet soon following.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What time izzit?”

 

“I don’t know,” he replied incredulously. “Do you think I have a watch on in here?”

 

Dean grunted and then shuffled away. Castiel relaxed when he realized Dean remembered not to flush this time. The hotels were always faulty and flushing the toilet had burnt both of them a few times now. It wasn’t long before Dean was returning and climbing in with him, standing behind him and in front of the stream of water, he began to shiver soon after. The bathroom was a lot colder than he had first realized.

 

“You’re blocking the warmth-”

 

Dean slid an arm around his waist, holding him back against his body, which was blessedly warm and firm. “Better?” he asked right against his ear, his voice husky and deep. It made shivers run up and down his spine.

 

“Yeah,” he whispered, shuddering.

 

“Good.”

 

Castiel shut his eyes and allowed Dean’s breathing and the white noise of the shower to lull him into a tired trance. Every time Dean swayed slightly, Castiel followed, his eyelids feeling as if they were weighed down with lead. Sleep sounded so good he almost fell over, before Dean had him around the waist and they were leaving the shower. He allowed Dean to walk him over to the bed, lay him on top, and then cover him up once again. Dean said something but he missed it. Then the door was opening and closing.

 

Then nothing.

* * *

 

Waking was a lot harder the second time around but eventually, after much trial and error, Castiel was able to pull himself out of bed and dress himself with the cleanest clothes he had at the moment. Dean was still gone, so Castiel walked out of the hotel room to see if he could find someone to bum a cigarette from; it had been awhile since he had had one last and he could feel the craving itching under his skin.

 

The sun made the asphalt blister and crack in places and Castiel could see there were now more cars in the parking lot than before. At least, they were no longer alone. Standing outside of a room was a man with a beard and ridiculously broad shoulders. He was a _big_ guy and Castiel could feel his nether regions tingling. Large Alphas _always_ made him feel extra excited downstairs. Being slung around with ease made him ridiculously happy. The man’s handsomeness only multiplied when Castiel made out the cigarette between his fingers.

 

Time to put on an act of charm.

 

Considering how attractive the man was, it wouldn’t be difficult. Adding some sway to his hips, Castiel sashayed over to the man, a smile slowly pulling across his lips, pulling back to reveal his white toothed smile. “Hi,” he greeted.

 

The man blinked and slowly took a drag from his cigarette, seemingly unimpressed. “Hey.”

 

“I’m Cas, what’s your name?”

 

“Benny.”

 

He nodded. “It’s nice to meet you Benny… So um, what’s a guy gotta do to get a smoke around here?” More smiles and batting eyelashes. It worked every time.

 

Or mostly every time.

 

Benny did not look impressed; not even amused. “I dunno. Buy some, I s’pose.”

 

Castiel pouted, staring up at Benny with the saddest eyes, hoping they looked watery enough for Benny to feel as if he were about to go swimming. “Just one little smoke? I’ll pay you back-.”

 

“No you won’t,” Benny replied with a rough laugh. It reverberated around the mostly empty courtyard, ricocheting off of the concrete of the hotel and then being soaked up by the asphalt that felt like lava. “You ain’t got no money, Kid, I ain’t dumb.”

 

“Please? I’ll do you a favor.”

 

Benny frowned, one of his eyebrows slowly raising. “For a smoke, huh? Jesus. You kids and your vices. Here,” Benny removed a cigarette from the carton, handing it over, “take it, you want it that damn bad.”

 

Castiel accepted the cigarette and Benny even lit it for him. He took a deep breath, allowing the smoke tendrils to slither down into his lungs, wrapping around and around as small gray inner demons. The burn felt good and Castiel began to wonder what would happen if he swallowed gunpowder. Would it burn just the same? If he lit a cigarette and pulled in its ashes, would he burst? Would he blow up? Would he kill anyone in his endeavor? Or would he just end up in a hospital with some bizarre form of lung cancer?

 

The last one seemed most likely.

 

“Thanks,” he said to Benny before heading back toward his hotel. Dean’s black monster was pulling into the parking lot as soon as he came into view. “You’re back.”

 

Dean climbed out, a smile on his face as he took a swig of beer, offering him a taste. “Yep. Who were you talkin’ to over there?”

 

“Benny.” He shrugged.

 

“Ah. Yeah, ran into him this morning. Seems like an okay guy.”

 

He nodded. “When are we leaving?”

 

“Soon, Baby, soon.” Dean looked over at Benny and Castiel did not miss the look of intrigue on his face. “Real soon.”

 

He could only nod an okay before being ushered back into the room. Later that night, after having rough sex, Dean left him on the bed, naked and out of breath, in favor of going to talk to Benny. Castiel had no idea what about and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. All he knew, was that he wanted to leave.

 

Soon.

When Dean returned from his visit with Benny everything seemed fine, except for the fact that Castiel was convinced that Dean had slept around on him - not that Dean _owed_ him anything. They were by no means _together_. They were just traveling side by side; a means to an end. That was all. Of course, that did not stop Castiel from wanting Dean for himself anyway.

 

But Castiel did take note that Dean was somewhat different now. He usually ate  like he were dying, which was great for him, since he always gave Dean the food he didn’t want. Now, Dean kept claiming he wasn’t hungry as they sat in a diner, with a burger he hardly touched. Castiel ate more than Dean, which was a first. Maybe he had picked up something at Benny’s house or had food poisoning. He didn’t look sick by any means but Dean seemed like one of those guys who would tough it out, even when he felt like collapsing.

 

They were leaving soon or that was what Dean kept telling him. For whatever reason, he didn’t believe Dean. He wasn’t even sure why he didn’t believe him, he just didn’t. Something about the way Dean would tell him offhandedly and then glance around the diner nervously, as if he wasn’t sure what he had just said were true. Castiel only continued to eat his salad, picking the chicken out.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Dean?” he asked.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

That was the end of the conversation. After Castiel finished eating, Dean laid some money on the table, and they were headed back out to the car. Dean sang along to Led Zeppelin and everything was fine. Except when they didn’t leave town, Dean went straight back to the motel and this time they got a room closer to Benny’s. He didn’t say anything but he wanted to.

 

“I thought we were leaving.”

 

Dean shrugged as he set their stuff down in the corner. “Yeah, well, I decided I wanted to stay. You can leave if you want.”

 

He knew that Dean did not _owe_ him anything but it did not seem _like_ Dean to just tell him to go. Not after all of the intimate evenings they had spent together. “Are you mad at me?”

 

Dean looked back at him, his face one of alarm. “What? Baby, _no_. I’m not mad at you.”

 

“You just don’t seem like yourself is all.”

 

Dean took a step up to him, leaning down to press an eager kiss to his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “We’ll leave soon, okay? I promise. I know you want to get outta this town.”

 

Castiel nodded and allowed Dean to kiss him again. He still didn’t believe Dean at all.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Dean fucked him, it felt good - he felt as if he were being split open, ready to go too many different directions. The bed squeaked insistently as Dean sped up, his face a mask of concentration. Castiel stared up at him, his eyes falling to Dean’s chest; he wasn’t breathing very hard, in fact, he seemed to not be breathing much at all. Yet, Dean was still alive, he could feel Dean’s skin, it was warm, and his eyes were shining.

 

_You’ve seen too many movies, Novak. Dean’s not a zombie. This is not a horror film. It’s just the light; it’s dark in here._

 

Dean let out a small grunt when he finished, his fingers playing a fast vibrato on Castiel’s clit to finish him off. The heat fell in waves through his body as he came, feeling that tell-tale wet gush pushing against Dean’s softening cock. He lay panting and staring up at the water stained ceiling in the loud silence afterward.

 

Still, Dean seemed to hardly breathe at all.

 

“How was that?” Dean asked, his voice low and gruff, as it always was after sex.

 

“Good,” he replied.

 

Dean glanced back at him. “Not great?”

 

He shrugged. He  had been taught to be honest when it came to sex; why tell a man it was great when it was only subpar? That was just a way to have a lifetime full of bad sex, with maybe a few good times strewn in the mix. _If he don’t please you, tell him._ “It was good, not great.”

 

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll make it great, alright?”

 

He smiled slightly, sitting up to press a kiss to Dean’s bicep. “I'd rather blow you.”

 

“Well, I can’t say no to _that_.” Which was true. Dean was a sucker for oral.

 

“Good.” He didn’t tell Dean he was trying to keep him from running off to have sex with Benny again. There was no real _proof_ that Dean and Benny were having sex, but Castiel was certain they were. Why else would he be spending so much time with Benny? At night.

 

“You happy, Cas?”

 

Castiel stared at Dean a moment and forced a smile to plaster across his face. “Yes,” he replied assuredly. “Very.”

There was something wrong with Dean.

* * *

 

Castiel could hear him vomiting from the bathroom. They had just returned from the diner in town and now he was puking his guts out. All he had eaten had been a slice of pie and a few sips of water. Nothing more. One slice of pie would not have made him sick.

 

“Dean? Are you okay?” he called tentatively through the door.

 

There was more retching and then a strangle, ‘ _yeah_ ’ before silence.

 

“Dean-”

 

The door opened. Dean stared down at him. “What?”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Was it what you ate?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

That was the end of the conversation.

“C’mon.”

 

Dean’s gruff voice woke him from a dead sleep. His heart galloped in his chest from being startled and a few breaths later, he could just begin to feel his blood pressure dropping. “What?” he gasped.

 

“We’re leaving.” Dean’s face in the dark seemed cold, as if he were angry. Did he and Benny have a fight? They should have left days ago but they were still in the small town, in the crappy motel, and taking cold showers.

 

“Right now?” Castiel glanced at the clock. It was half past three in the morning. Somehow, he was not surprised, nor did he think that this was the first time Dean had taken off in the middle of the night, fleeing like bandits.

 

“ _Yes_ , Cas. Right now. Let’s go, c’mon.” Dean gave him a few pats to make him move, so he slung his legs, which suddenly felt like jelly to the floor. “Five minutes.”

 

He sighed and nodded. “Okay, Dean.”

 

Dean turned and left the room, the door slowly shutting behind him, leaving no trace he was even there a moment prior. The only hint was the smell of leather and smoke… and something else. He couldn’t quite place it; it wasn’t whiskey, which was unusual. Dean normally smelled of whiskey but he could not place the new smell. Almost like iron. Iron and something else. He frowned and eventually shook his head. With three minutes remaining in his allotted five, Castiel walked out to the car and slid into the passenger’s seat, immediately pressing his head to the glass.

 

As Dean drove out of the parking lot, Castiel glimpsed Benny, standing, in the doorway. Smoke hung in the air around him like a halo and he could see the man’s eyes glinting in the dark. Dean’s face was set into a grim mask and his jaw continuously clenched and unclenched in a loop. Something had happened between them, Castiel was sure of it.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean quit letting him go outside.

 

He wasn’t sure why and he was too afraid to question him. Not after last night.

 

_“Where are you going?!”_

 

_“I’m just going outside… I’m bored-.”_

 

 _“I didn’t say you could go outside!” Dean rose up from where he had been sitting and staring out the window, storming over to slam the door shut, almost slamming it onto his fingers. “You_ stay _here.”_

 

_He nodded slowly._

 

It was almost noon and Dean was still asleep; he had been sleeping later and later during the day, tending to stay up well past four in the morning most nights. They had left the thought of Benny behind two weeks ago and it still seemed to upset Dean. Trying to talk to him about it was completely out of the question, not with Dean’s anger rising at random.

 

Eating less, sleeping more. It was almost as if Dean were depressed. _He_ knew what depression looked like. He had been depressed… some would probably say he was _still_ depressed, but he would have to argue that, but not now. Now he was debating on sneaking out of the room to stretch his legs and maybe hitch a ride far away from here. Of course, new rides meant new people, and new people meant playing the “Can I trust you” game. Again.

 

He sighed. Staying here seemed like the most viable option.

 

Dean stirred slightly, slowly rolling over, and wincing at the sun shining through the blinds. “Ugh, close those, please…”

 

Castiel reached over and slowly shut them, telling himself he had only done it because Dean had added a please. “Why am I not allowed to leave, Dean? What’s _wrong_ with you?

 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me,” was the muttered, annoyed reply.

 

“Bull shit! Something has been going on since you met Benny-.”

 

“Don’t talk about him.”

 

“So something _did_ happen!” Castiel threw up his hands in defeat. “Talk to me, Dean! I want to help you, what’s going on. You sleep more than anyone I know, you don’t eat, you stay up _all_ night. What is going on with you? Are you depressed? Did Benny hurt your feelings, Dean?”

 

Dean glowered over at him as if those words were particularly offensive, and perhaps they had been. He had not meant to so condescending, but he probably had. “ _No_ , he didn’t _hurt_ my feelings, you little prick.”

 

“You don’t have to be mean, Dean. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole just now.” Castiel crawled onto the bed and straddled Dean’s hips, placing his hands on either side of his rough face. “What is going- Wow, you’re freezing. Are you sick? Is that what’s wrong? I could go out and get you some soup.”

 

A hint of a smile slid across Dean’s face. “You’d do that?”

 

“ _Yes_. Why didn’t you just _tell_ me you were sick? Jeeze. You big, macho, baby.” Castiel smiled and winked, which made a blush spread across Dean’s cheeks, weaker than usual… but if he were sick, well, that explained a lot.

 

“You promise to come back?” Dean muttered, sounding like a frightened child.

 

“Of _course_ , Dean. Do you have any cash I can use?” Dean nodded and gestured at his pants which were on the floor, so Castiel slid off of him and grabbed his wallet, fishing out the twenty inside, before taking off, glad to be out of the dark room and into the sunshine.

 

There had to be a place he could find soup and cold medicine _somewhere_ nearby.

 

“ _Hey baby! Nice ass!_ ”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes. Leave it to Alphas to catcall him as he walked down the street in search of something to make _his_ Alpha feel better.

 

Wait.

 

His Alpha? Did he just liken Dean to being _his_? They hadn’t Knotted. They hadn’t Marked one another… they just had an obnoxious amount of sex and happened to sleep in the same motel room together. They were by no means a couple, mates, bonded… none of the shit that all Omegas dream about and ever actually get. He had learned that early on, the bonded Alpha fairy tales were all just that: fairy tales.

 

No one actually found an Alpha to bond with… to mate with. Everyone just settled for what they could find. No one ever got that lives-happily-ever-after ending. It was all just crap your Omega father told you to make their lives seem better than they actually were. _His_ father had died early on in his childhood because his… well, he refused to call his Father’s mate his parent at all… had killed him.

 

 _That_ was the ending many Omegas received. Death.

 

It was no wonder he had trust issues.

 

There was a small corner store at the end of the street. Castiel took off into a jog, still trying to dismiss any thoughts of Dean as _his_ , before he burst through the door, startling the guy behind the counter. “Sorry,” he gasped, rushing down the nearest aisle to find soup.

 

Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup.

 

 _There_.

 

All that was left was a can of tomato soup but that would have to do. Castiel snatched it up and then he searched for cold medication of any kind. There was the daytime kind and the nighttime kind. Dean didn’t need to sleep _more_ , so Castiel ignored the nighttime version and snatched up the nasty, yellow liquid. Drinking the stuff as a kid had been unbearable, Castiel could not imagine having to do it now.

 

The guy behind the counter stared at him a moment, almost too hard, but Castiel just screwed on a fake smile, which was his go-to. He smiled more than anyone he knew. It was simply ingrained into his system to smile, even when he didn’t want to. When his items were returned to him, Castiel dashed out of the store to prevent from being raped again or from being too late with Dean’s stuff. He was expecting him after all.

 

Two more passers-by catcalled him, but Castiel ignored the lewd men as he hurried back into the motel room. It was only when he glanced around the room that his shoulders fell. They had no stove to heat up the soup with.

 

Dean was sitting up slowly, pressing back against the headboard. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I forgot we don’t have a stove or microwave… I messed up- I should have found you something you could just _eat_ -.”

 

“It’s okay, Cas, I ain’t hungry.” Dean shook his head. “I’m fine.”

 

“ _How_?” he demanded. “I _know_ what hunger is like! I _starve_ myself on purpose, so I _know_ you’ve got to be hungry-.”

 

“You _what_?” Dean roared, his eyes widening. “You _what_?!”

 

Castiel flinched. “I said I starve myself, Dean. I’m not thin enough, I have to be thinner so I can get a job…”

 

“Cas, you are _plenty_ thin. If you get any thinner you’ll waste away to nothing! I want you to eat something _real_. Okay? Eat the soup.”

 

“But it’s cold... “

 

“Eat it anyway. For me.”

 

Castiel glared slightly. It was just soup… it wouldn’t make him gain any weight. Right? Castiel blessed the can makers for make it a pop-top lid, slowly opening it, staring at the red-dye #40 contents. He looked up at Dean, but Dean was staring right back at him; he had a feeling if he didn’t drink the soup down, Dean would hold him down and make him.

 

So, he drank.

 

And drank.

 

And drank.

 

Until he gagged and had to go to the bathroom and vomit it all back up. He wasn’t sure if his body just was no longer used to eating so much at once or the taste was really just _that_ bad. Eventually, he felt Dean’s hands slide over his shoulders as he helped him back to the bed to lie down and relax. Sleep came soon after.

* * *

 

The sink was running.

 

Castiel sat up and felt his bladder clench. When he rose from the bed and rushed to the bathroom, he froze. Dean was at the sink, washing his hands. The water was pink, slowly turning redder and muddier, as if he were washing his hands clean of-

 

 _blood_.

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” he whispered. “Dean, what did you _do_?!”

 

Dean said nothing, he simply continued to clean his hands. “Go ‘way, Cas.”

 

“Dean-.” He reached forward and touched Dean’s arm but Dean shook him off, glaring at him so darkly it almost made him wet his pants. “Dean, what is going on? What did you do?”

 

Was Dean a murderer? Maybe Dean were a psycho after all.

 

“I didn’t do anything, Cas,” Dean replied calmly. Too calmly.

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“Well it’s true! Now shut up and go back to bed. Jesus.”

 

Castiel slunk back away from the door, doing as Dean bid him. He forgot he had to pee. All he could think of was if Dean were a murderer, what did that make him? His accomplice? His victim? He wasn’t really sure and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out either.

 

After Dean finished cleaning up, he left. Castiel watched him go in the darkness, only then going to the bathroom to pee. Something was wrong with Dean.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Someone was licking his pussy. In his dream, someone was eating him out as if they were never going to get enough of him. Castiel moaned, his legs spreading wider, wishing he could look under the blankets, but he knew if he did, he’d regret it. So he kept staring at the sky, allowing the stranger to eat him out and bring him closer to orgasm. He gasped, his fingers grasping the blanket that covered him tightly, feeling the stranger’s tongue run in broad licks, making him wetter with each pass.

 

He was going to come. Right now.

 

Castiel gasped, his eyes flying open as he woke up in orgasm. His body clenched and twitched, throwing the real blanket aside to see Dean slowly looking up at him, his eyes bright, clearly pleased with himself. “What are you doing?” he gasped.

 

Dean grinned. “Having breakfast,” he replied smartly. “It’s good.”

 

Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. It had felt good, if not a little violating. But maybe that was just because Dean kept him inside all day and after the incident with the blood on his hands, he had felt perturbed ever since. “Are you okay, Dean?”

 

“Yeah? Why?”

 

“You just seem… off. Something seems wrong with you-.”

 

“There is _nothing_ wrong with me, Cas. Jesus Christ, why can’t you get it through your thick skull? Just trying to be nice to you and here you are, jumping down my throat about it.” Dean stood up, storming over to gather up his belongings as if he were about to leave.

 

“Dean, wait…” Castiel stood up, walking over to grasp onto his elbow. “Please wait.”

 

Dean slowly glanced back at him. “What?”

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Ever since meeting Benny, you just seemed off. Something seemed wrong with you. Like Benny… changed you, or something. Did he upset you? Did he say something to you?”

 

Dean’s face paled, if that were at all possible. He had been losing color day by day; Castiel figured it was from whatever he had picked up earlier. “It’s nothing, Cas. Benny and I just had a fight is all. A disagreement.”

 

“About what?”

 

Dean slowly turned to face him, his hands moving to cup his face gently. “You.”

 

He hadn’t expected _him_ to be the answer. “Me?” he stammered. “What do you mean, _me_?”

 

“He wanted you, Cas. He wanted you for shit I wasn’t about to let him have you for,” Dean snarled fiercely. “I wasn’t going to let him have you. He can’t have you.”

 

Castiel stared at Dean for a moment, searching for whatever Dean meant by that. “I’m confused.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. Just know I saved your ass.” Dean bent down and kissed him but Castiel could tell he was purposefully keeping him in the dark. “Okay?”

 

He wanted to say _no_ , _not okay_ , but he kept his mouth shut and just nodded. “I think we should head for LA.”

 

“Why?”

 

Castiel frowned. “What do you mean _why_? My job? The whole _reason_ for this insane road trip from Hell!”

 

“Okay, _now_ you’re overreacting-.”

 

There were a lot of movies where the antagonist slaps the hell out of the protagonist, or the lovers fight and one of them smacks the other. Castiel had never hit anyone before, so he never knew if the sounds were accurate. They weren’t. The sound his hand made upon contact with Dean’s face sounded like a gunshot to his ears. The look on Dean’s face was even more priceless.

 

“Stop telling me what I am and am not,” he snarled. “Stop telling me I’m wrong about something being wrong with you. Stop telling me I’m overreacting. _Stop_ trying to control me. I am not yours. I do not _belong_ to you.”

 

Dean stared at him a moment before Castiel felt his hands wrap around his shoulders and he shoved him back into the wall, snarling. His eyes grew wide when he saw. There were fangs in Dean’s mouth. Not the stupid plastic, cheap ones kids bought during Halloween… but the real ones, like in a real vampire movie special effects crew would use.

 

“Don’t you hit me again,” Dean whispered.

 

Castiel stared at Dean’s mouth, unable to look away. He wasn’t himself. He hadn’t been himself in weeks because of this. Dean was a vampire. “Dean,” he whispered.

 

Dean recoiled, covering his mouth with his hand, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to know.”

 

“Vampires aren’t real…”

 

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Dean replied with a shrug. “Then I met Benny… I kept going back to him, there was something wrong with him, you know? It was like… I was enthralled with him. Then, one night, I wake up, my neck is all bloody, and I’m not the same. That’s the night we left. I cleaned up and took off. Next thing I know… I ain’t me.”

 

Castiel stared at Dean, listening to his story in slight disbelief. The proof was _there_ , right in front of him, but it didn’t feel right.

 

“I kill people, Cas,” Dean muttered, slowly sinking onto the bed. “I don’t eat the same. I sleep all morning because the sun makes me tired. I got these…” He reached up to touch his lips again. “I don’t know how to stop.”

 

Castiel took a step back. “Dean... “ He shook his head. Suddenly, killing himself had never seemed more attractive. If he didn’t die or escape, Dean would kill him. Dean didn’t look at him and Castiel did not say anything else. Their silence said more than they could anyway.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Castiel woke up before Dean did, which was not unheard of. He crept out of bed and slowly redressed, pulling his clothes on slowly. The whole world was silent, as if it had held its breath, waiting for him to make a terrible sound. He crept across the floor and then out the motel door, disappearing into the sunny day. Dean’s keys held in his hand tightly, he stared at the Impala.

 

Dean would surely kill him just for this, but he had to get away.

 

So, he climbed into the car, turned her on, and took off out of the parking lot. He didn’t look in the rearview, he just picked a road and started toward the nearest highway. He didn’t care where he ended up because anywhere was better than dead. The wind whipped his hair, and the tank was full. That would be his only problem - when he ran out of gas and money. Dean had had money in his wallet, which he had taken the night before while Dean had been resting. There was plenty of cash in there but gas was expensive and this car probably ate gas like it was a snack.

 

He shook his head. If he could make it to LA, he could lose himself in the city and never worry about Dean again. He just had to get there first. And hope that Dean didn’t find him later. Turning on the radio, Castiel turned the station until a sultry voice came on to lull him along his journey. The sun was rising behind him and the road was empty. It stretched on and on, for what seemed like an eternity.

 

The only thing he could do now, was ride.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write more and then realized I quit caring so, I'm sorry the ending sucks?? I'll write a better story next time, friends.


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